What it’s like to photograph a sandstorm

This article was originally published on Photography Life, and is being republished in full on DPReview with express permission from Spencer Cox.

One of the windiest nights I’ve ever taken pictures turned into perhaps the single most rewarding—and frightening—landscape photography experience of my life. I was on the Mesquite Sand Dunes in Death Valley, a place I had visited twice in the past, though under much tamer conditions. This night, the gusts of wind were far greater than I had seen before, and they kicked up a layer of sand that made for amazing sunset photos. But as the day came to a close, it was clear I had entered uncharted waters.

Even before sunset, the wind was fairly heavy. Sand stung at my feet, but it wasn’t any worse than a breezy day at the beach. I had a scarf over my nose and mouth to avoid inhaling too much dust, and I wore sunglasses to protect my eyes.

It was a beautiful sunset. The clouds were something special—patchy, orange, blue, and dark. The atmosphere was perfect for photography. Over the course of an hour, I made a series of mad dashes from dune to dune in search of the best composition, and I captured a handful of shots I liked along the way. The whole time, in the distance, one dark cloud was lower than the rest. Although it stood out somewhat, I filed it away in the back of my mind as I focused on capturing other parts of the landscape.

Soon, the day had ended. The sun dipped out of view, and the light began to fade even further. I saw, then, how far I had traveled. I was already at the tallest dune, which rose next to me in a gentle slope. The best colors in the sky had ended, but I decided to climb this last peak to see the view before turning back for the night.

That was when the air began to change. The low, dark cloud I noticed earlier had grown much closer, and the reality of my situation became obvious: this was not a typical low-hanging cloud, but, instead, a sandstorm. The wind picked up in powerful gusts, and I took a photo.

NIKON D800E + 35mm f/1.8 @ 35mm, ISO 100, 1.3 seconds, f/16.0 On the lefthand side of the image, you can see the front edge of the sandstorm approaching.

For half a second, everything was completely still. The sky dimmed and turned dirty. I started to hear sifting noises, and a thin layer of dust fell on my shoulders and backpack.

When the wind picked up again, much faster than before, it was a completely different world. I stood looking ahead, unable to see the next dune in any direction. As the atmosphere thickened, darkness fell rapidly. I pulled out my flashlight, which illuminated swirls of sand racing through the air.

When the wind picked up again, much faster than before, it was a completely different world.

After bracing myself into the ground, I went through the inevitable safety checks. Was my GPS still working? Check. Did I have enough water to last the night, in case of a true emergency? Check. But even then, it’s hard to feel completely safe at a time like this.

The storm didn’t seem natural. Or, instead, it seemed too natural. The power of the wind and sand was overwhelming. If you want to feel completely helpless in the face of the world’s chaos, get lost in a sandstorm.

Of course, I wasn’t truly lost. The GPS had found a path back, pointing to where my car sat in the distance (though I no longer saw it, or the road). I started moving in that direction.

It soon became apparent that my progress was slow. Indeed, I thought I was walking in circles, despite following the GPS’s recommended route. To be clear, it didn’t just seem like I might be walking in circles. I truly believed I was going around the same sand dune over and over, retracing my own footprints as the wind blew them away.

Especially in a situation like this, I am inclined to trust technology. I know that a GPS is far more likely than a clueless photographer to pinpoint its location in a sandstorm. But I was thankful to have packed along a backup GPS, which I pulled out now to calculate the same route—sending another signal to perfectly-placed satellites flying thousands of kilometers overhead. When that, too, confirmed the same path, I knew to stifle my intuition and follow the light back home.

To describe the rest of the hike, the best comparison I can make is to say that it felt like walking on an ocean. I would climb up a dune, shine my flashlight ahead, and then step down into darkness. And this repeated itself for an hour—up, down, up—on waves of sand.

To describe the rest of the hike, the best comparison I can make is to say that it felt like walking on an ocean.

Then, suddenly, I was at the car. I threw my backpack on the back seat, climbed in, and closed the door. That moment was absolutely eerie.

The constant push of wind and sand suddenly stopped; even as the car shook in the breeze, it felt like everything was absolute silence. The dim glow of the reading light overhead seemed like the only island in the entire world. I was back—back to a refuge from the relentless wind and sand. I was also back to civilization, where, surreally, the nearest town was a five minute drive away.

The fact that I could order a burger moments after I had been inside of new sand dunes forming was amazing, and deeply unsettling.

Writing this, I’m on the third floor of a huge building with glowing lights, and, a few hundred feet away, tall waves are crashing ashore. It’s nighttime, and there is a light drizzle. Heavy winds are whipping around. A car just drove past.

We’re living in shelters that we created at the doorstep of a storm, and it’s so incredibly difficult to remember that. It shouldn’t take an otherworldly night of photography to put things like this into perspective; it should be at the core of who we are.

Landscape photography is a strange art. I’ve realized that my true motivation for taking pictures is not to create beautiful images. Instead, it’s to be out there — walking into a sandstorm, surrounding by waves of dunes — to watch the planet change so spectacularly.

Spencer Cox is a landscape photographer and writer who spends his free time… taking landscape photos and writing. It works out well. His photos have gained international recognition and awards, and his work has been displayed worldwide, including at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History.

Comments

Ominous photo Spenser, well done ! B&W really emphasizes the drama IMO. Looks like there were possibly thunderstorms, or remnants of, in the area? Was this during our southwest desert monsoon season ? I'm wondering if this sand storm was what they call a "haboob" ?From Accuweather:"... monsoonal dust storms are produced from downbursts in severe thunderstorm development. This creates a blast that lifts dust as high as 5,000 feet generating very large scale, high and dense dust storms. This type of dust storm has been known to be called a haboob. "Just wondering . - Thanks & keep clicking !

Beautiful. I tried a typhoon before but started fearing for my lenses and shot with my smartphone only, and had to deal with the very limited DR at ISO200. I ended up pushing shadows too much and had to do pixel by pixel NR...by hand. Good thing the camera module didn't have so many pixels anyway.

Great story. Taking photographs is just a small part of photography. As Cox eloquently describes, it is "being there" that's the most exciting thing - whether it's in a desert sand storm, a mountain peak, or in my case, in the sweltering heat and humidity of a tropical rainforest, surrounded by the wonderful sights, sounds and smells of the natural world.

This brings back memories from a while back during the days in the service.I had been through two powerful sandstorms that, to this day, I haven't seen anything even close to them.One thing from my experience that may be worth mentioning is that we had a communications truck at the edge of the camp. During the storm, there was a steady stream of sparks from the bottom of the vertical antenna to the truck's metal body on the outside (although the antenna mount was a 5" high rubber mount). Radios in the truck were turning on and off erratically, although we had switched them off earlier, and the mechanical switches were still off. By the time it was over, none of our radio equipment was functional anymore.It was a frightening experience.Mother nature should be respected at all times.

"But I was thankful to have packed along a backup GPS, which I pulled out now to calculate the same route—sending another signal to perfectly-placed satellites flying thousands of kilometers overhead."

I'm going to be pedantic here and remind you that GPS receivers do NOT transmit to the satellites. It's a receive-only system unless you're using tower-based assistance such as E911 in a phone - in which case the transmission is to your nearest cell tower, not the sats.

"Then, suddenly, I was at the car. I threw my backpack on the back seat, climbed in, and closed the door. That moment was absolutely eerie. The constant push of wind and sand suddenly stopped; even as the car shook in the breeze, it felt like everything was absolute silence."

Getting into a car out of strong wind that's been pushing on you for a long time is a great feeling of relief. Even if you haven't been hiking or anything, just being out in the wind can be exhausting.

I've never brought along a GPS before. But the article sure makes me want to invest in one. Does the author (or any readers) have links to good ones? (Here, "good" means a combination of budget and reliability.) :-)

Garmin has some incredibly inexpensive but high performance handheld GPS units. I have several and would trust my life with them. They also have some remarkable wrist watch style units that blow your mind! For the type of environment the author was dealing with you’ll certainly want to consider a unit that’s well sealed (perhaps even water proofed?) for whatever the outdoors might throw at you. The 64 series, the Foretrex series and the eTrex series are all worthy units that you can count on but won’t break the bank!

Yeah I second the recommendation for Garmin - many phones have good standalone GPS performance, but poor battery life for this particular use case and even weatherproof phones like Sony's are nowhere near as durable/rugged as even the most basic Garmin dedicated GPS units.

I have been in the same situation you describe (in a different country) but now sadly I am of the diminished ilk I mention above. Your story has brought back memories that could not make the contrast starker.

Yes, I can relate to your final paragraph. As a geologist I am ever curious about the processes that shape our world. I can stand for hours at the coast watching the waves crashing on the shore (or similar scenarios like thunderstorms). It's good to disconnect from your usual routine from time to time. It lets us appreciate some ubiquitous things differently and that we have a choice to be safe (under most circumstances).

Latest in-depth reviews

The Nikon Z6 may not offer the incredible resolution of its sibling, the Z7, but its 24MP resolution is more than enough for most people, and the money saved can buy a lot of glass. Find out what's new and notable about the Z6 in our First Impressions Review.

Many cameras today include built-in image stabilization systems, but when it comes to video that's still no substitute for a proper camera stabilization rig. The Ronin-S aims to solve that problem for DSLR and mirrorless camera users, and we think DJI has delivered on that promise.

The SiOnyx Aurora is a compact camera designed to shoot stills and video in color under low light conditions, so we put it to the test under the northern lights and against a Nikon D5. It may not be a replacement for a DSLR, but it can complement one well for some uses.

At its core, the Scanza is an easy-to-use multi-format film scanner. It offers a quick and easy way to scan your film negatives and slides into JPEGs, but costs a lot more than similar products without a Kodak label.

Latest buying guides

If you're looking for a high-quality camera, you don't need to spend a ton of cash, nor do you need to buy the latest and greatest new product on the market. In our latest buying guide we've selected some cameras that while they're a bit older, still offer a lot of bang for the buck.

What's the best camera for under $500? These entry level cameras should be easy to use, offer good image quality and easily connect with a smartphone for sharing. In this buying guide we've rounded up all the current interchangeable lens cameras costing less than $500 and recommended the best.

Whether you've grown tired of what came with your DSLR, or want to start photographing different subjects, a new lens is probably in order. We've selected our favorite lenses for Sony mirrorlses cameras in several categories to make your decisions easier.

Whether you've grown tired of what came with your DSLR, or want to start photographing different subjects, a new lens is probably in order. We've selected our favorite lenses for Canon DSLRs in several categories to make your decisions easier.

For the past few weeks, our readers have been voting on their favorite photographic gear released in the past year in a wide range of categories. Now that the first round of voting is over, it's time to pick the best overall product of 2018.

Sony had the full-frame mirrorless market to itself for nearly five years, but it's no longer alone – the Nikon Z6 and Canon EOS R have both arrived priced to compete with the a7 III. We take a head to head to head look at these three cameras.

As if it needed one, the triple-camera smartphone might really be the final nail in the compact camera's coffin. DPR contributor Lars Rehm brought the LG V40 on a hiking trip recently and found it to be a huge leap forward in terms of creative freedom.

Renowned UK-based landscape photographer Nigel Danson has been using DSLRs for years. In this video, created exclusively for DPReview, Nigel discusses his experience using the Nikon Z7 and why he's excited about mirrorless cameras. (Spoiler... beautiful scenery ahead.)

Chinese optical manufacturer Kipon has added the Nikon Z and Canon R mounts to its range of adapters made to attach medium format lenses from Hasselblad, Mamiya, Pentax and others to full frame cameras.